


Wake Up To You

by loube



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loube/pseuds/loube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Louis wakes up with Harry in his arms and he’s a little, or maybe a lot, confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up To You

The first time Louis wakes up to Harry in his arms, Louis is a little bit more than distressed.

For one thing, as soon as he recognizes the mop of curls tickling his nose, he’s halfway into the air before he’s a lump on the floor with a sore bum. And it’s more than that, when Louis knows it’s Harry that’s in his arms, he’s frightened and a little frantic because Harry doesn’t like it when Louis cuddles him in bed and whenever he’d done it before, he was left alone in bed at night while Harry was curled up in his own bed across the hall. So yeah, Louis’ kind of frantic and he prays that Harry isn’t awake and he hesitantly stands up and hovers over Harry’s body before he releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and stumbles out into the kitchen to make some tea.

And while he makes his tea, he frowns and accidentally burns himself because he kind of feels like he’s betrayed Harry by doing something Harry doesn’t like and he swears to himself that he won’t do it again. He won't.

But then the next morning he wakes up and there’s a hand lightly gripping his shirt and a warm breath on his neck and soft skin against his own and he’s rigid in bed as soon as he’s alert. He’s holding his breath, and he’s slowly sliding out of Harry’s grasp because he’s afraid Harry will wake up and get angry, and Louis really doesn’t want to go to sleep alone. He wants to bury himself against Harry's side and hear Harry's breathing and to hear Harry's soft little snores beside him and he wants the warmth of Harry's body and the presence of Harry's body beside him and he wants Harry. He wants Harry.

Louis gets out of bed successfully and he’s two feet out of bed and hands clenched and readily relieved when Harry shifts in bed and yawns and peeks open an eye, “It’s so fucking hot in here. Jesus, Lou, would you turn up the A.C please?”

And Louis is halfway out the door before Harry can move again because he nearly got caught and Harry was warm and Harry was _warm_. Warm. Too unused to Louis' body against his and their mixed heat and skin against skin to find it comforting and instead it was warm.

That night, Louis wears extra layers so that he’ll be too hot to want to cuddle and he makes sure it’s a little tight so he won’t shift as easily and he makes sure he’s as far away from Harry as he can get, because he doesn’t want to end up holding Harry only for Harry to wake up warm and uncomfortable and to know and to leave him. He just wants Harry in his bed, and if his poor, smitten heart is lucky, they’ll do more things that their "friends with benefits" label allows them to do and maybe, if he’s even luckier, Harry will fall asleep touching him. But he knows Harry doesn’t like to be cuddled because it crosses this line between friends and lovers, so now he’s taking precautions.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Harry murmurs, tugging the tight sleeve on Louis’ arm as he eyes Louis’ attire warily. “It’s sweltering. Why are you wearing layers? Do you want to die from heat stroke?”

And Harry begins to tug on his layers, slipping a hand against his tummy and massaging his skin, urging him to take off the surplus clothing so that they can indulge in their special arrangment of blowjobs and handjobs and just friends, definitely no homo. And Louis is really tempted, but first he has to learn how to stay on his side of the bed again because if he can’t even do that, then there won’t be a “friends with benefits” status for him to enjoy at all.

So Louis chuckles uneasily, “I think I’ve got a cold.” And then he fakes a cough and scoots as far away from Harry’s half naked body as he possibly can and he hopes that the layers and the tight clothes will keep him from wrapping himself around Harry during the night.

When Louis wakes up, he’s in his boxers, all layers are on the floor and Harry is tucked in his arms, snoring against his collarbone and he’s tired. He doesn’t understand why he keeps ending up wrapped around Harry when he’s trying so hard not to. He doesn’t really know what to do anymore, not when he's pretty sure he's done everything (or not really but it feels like he has), so he slips out of bed the same way he has for the last two or three days and he kicks the pile of clothes he somehow took off during the night and goes to make some more tea.

When Harry wakes up, he stumbles out to see Louis sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, sipping tea from a mug clad in his underwear, and when Harry joins him on the floor, the two end up kissing a little before Louis’ hands travel a little south and it’s suddenly not kissing anymore. It's definitely not just kissing anymore.

“Shit, Louis,” Harry groans, a subtle jerk of his hips asking for me and his hands scratching at Louis' skin as they look for something to hold on to, something to hold and pull at and beg for.

Louis grins against Harry’s neck, nibbling against the soft expanse of Harry’s skin as he slips Harry’s boxers off, settles between Harry's legs as he bends over Harry's body and places kisses along the nape of his neck, leading up the column of his throat and resting against his lips, and his hand is wrapping around Harry and his thumb is sliding against the head, smearing precum over the tip, and Harry is writhing beneath him on the floor and Louis doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful than Harry with beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his green eyes glazed, his mouth open in moans and his body naked.

"Fuck, more,” Harry moans, his lips catching Louis’ in a quick kiss before Louis pulls away and places his lips on his throat, tongue against skin as he tastes Harry's flesh and sinks his teeth into Harry's body.

“Here?” Louis nips the side of Harry’s neck before moving down further, trailing against his body as his lips drag against Harry's body, “Or here?”

Louis kisses his way across Harry’s chest, his tongue flicking one of Harry’s nipples on his way along the length of Harry's body and then his tongue is sliding over Harry’s navel and then it’s dragging across Harry’s hipbones, and following his V, and his breath is tickling Harry’s smooth, porcelain white skin, “Where do you want it, Harry? Tell me where you want it, Hazza.”

Harry's moaning beneath him, loud and wanton as he jerks his hips and scratches against Louis' shoulders and Louis drags his tongue along the base of Harry's cock and he traces the vein along Harry's dick to its tip and catches precum on his tongue, and then with a thrust from Harry’s hip and a tug to Louis’ hair, Louis' lips quirk against Harry's skin before he lets Harry slip into his outh and he swallows Harry down and Harry is wrapped in Louis’ mouth and Louis’ gagging a little from the sudden intrusion.

“ _Fuck_ , your mouth,” Harry grunts, releasing his grip from Louis’ hair and Louis pulls up, letting himself breathe before he bobs up and down once or twice and adjusts his head and sinks back down so that Harry’s cock is buried in his throat as he hums and Harry’s moaning loudly and then there’s something hot in Louis’ throat, a quick spurt as Harry's hands bury back into his hair and he holds him down so his dick stays buried in Louis' throat, and Louis groans as Harry comes in his mouth and he swallows him down his throat as Harry's moans echo in their kitchen and Harry's hands scratch against his scalp. As Harry lets up, Louis drags his tongue along Harry's cock and cleans it pf Harry's come, catching the last few drips in his mouth and laving over the wet skin as he looks up at Harry's hazy eyes. 

Jamming a fist down his own boxers, Louis tugs once, twice and with the taste of Harry on his tongue and the feeling of Harry's misty eyes watching him, Louis spills all over his hand and makes a mess in his boxers and yeah, Louis really likes Harry, really likes their special arrangement even if it's a little less than what he wants. So of course, Louis looks up at Harry, meets his eyes, and he decides he wants this to last. He’d rather have Harry this way than not at all.

So that night, Louis decides he won’t sleep.

Harry and Louis undress and they get into bed and they kiss a little before Louis says something about how he’s tired and Harry urges, touches Louis' skin, trails along the expanse of his hips for awhile before he relents and he curls up on the other side of the bed. And Louis lays there and forces himself to stay awake, because he figures if he’s awake he’ll know what he’s doing. He’s not sure what he’ll do after that, because he can’t possibly stay awake forever, but he doesn’t think about it for too long before deciding he’ll figure that out another day and for now, he just wants to succeed for one night.

But then he falls asleep, barely. He’s drifting off, soft snores breathing through his mouth when the bed begins to move and although he’s aware of it, he lets himself drift a little more before his arm is being lifted and Harry’s in his arms, snuggling into his side and breathing contentedly against his skin and then Louis realizes that he hasn’t been wrapping himself around Harry at all. Harry’s been crawling into his arms. And before Louis can really say anything or think much else, Harry’s snoring soundly and it lulls Louis back to sleep. So that night, he dreams of a place where he and Harry wake up every day wrapped up in one another except now that’s reality too, and Louis finds that he likes it, likes it a lot and he holds Harry tighter thinking of the day he can wake up to Harry everyday for the rest of his life.

When Louis wakes up the next day, he doesn’t really know what to do, doesn't know how to handle it now that he knows. So he gets out of bed like he has been and he makes tea again and he waits for Harry to wake up and he thinks of what in the world he’s supposed to say. But when Harry really does wake up, and he comes out to the kitchen and Louis tries to give him a quick good morning kiss, Harry ducks away and he gives him that look, the one with the warnings and the confusion and the disapproval and it makes Louis' heart stop and suddenly Louis doesn't remember a single thing he'd planned to say. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the day. He doesn’t really know where he and Harry stand anymore and suddenly his dream seems so far away and surreal and Louis' at a loss.

But then night comes and it’s time for bed again and Louis’ still confused and when he’s inside Harry and he’s thrusting into him, hard and fast, he’s the most confused because he wants to say ‘I love you’ and he wants to hold Harry after they’re done and he wants to be gentle but he doesn’t know if that’s “crossing the line” anymore because cuddling used to be and now it’s not. So then Louis goes faster, faster and faster, then he comes and he sucks Harry off and buries his fingers inside of Harry and he watches Harry shake and come twice that night, and he ignores the sinking feeling in his chest when he wipes them off and Harry’s still not in his arms, but then an hour or so passes and Harry’s crawling back into his side, burying himself into the shape of Louis' hips and Louis is just so confused.

“What are you doing?” Louis’ voice is tired and sluggish and his voice sounds foreign even to himself, but the words are loud and clear in both of their ears.

And now it’s Harry that’s stiff and rigid and Louis’ just exasperated because if cute good morning kisses and ‘I love you’s and being gentle “crosses the line” then why is cuddling suddenly okay? He just wants to know what he and Harry are and he’s too tired to figure it out himself.

“I…I thought you were asleep,” Harry murmurs and Louis kind of pushes Harry away and gets out of the bed, slips on his boxers and runs a hand through his hair as he opens the door and glances back in as he leaves.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room. We can talk tomorrow.”

When Louis wakes up again, it’s not morning, but somebody is crawling into bed with him and curling into his arms and whispering ‘I’m sorry’ and kissing his neck, so he wraps his arm around the boy he loves so much, and he's whispering an 'It's okay' and he promises himself that tomorrow, in the morning, he’ll make Harry talk because he doesn’t think his heart can handle so much confusion, because it's not okay. Not okay at all.

The next time Louis wakes up, light is shining into the room and Harry’s pressed against him, holding him by his waist and he really wants to stay, so he does. And when Harry stirs awake, they don’t really say much, Harry just kisses him softly and whispers against his lips, “I just wanted to know what it would be like to wake up to you.”

And it's soft and gentle and Harry's fingers are against his temple and tracing the curve of his jaw and the racing in his chest is pounding against his ribcage and as Louis meets Harry's eyes, his heart clenches and cracks through his bones. He feels like he's breaking, feels like his bones are hollow and his body is crashing down into dust and Louis’ kissing him back with new found fervor and after their lips are red and bruised and Louis’ lips are coated with Harry, he finally asks the question that’s been lingering in his mind, “Do you love me?"

And Harry watches him with steady eyes, with soft breaths and something lost in his eyes before Harry’s kissing him again and then he’s climbing onto him and he’s straddling him and they’re grinding their hips, bones clashing and flesh breaking, and Harry’s biting Louis’ neck, whispering nothings against his body, and their moans and grunts are echoing off the walls and the question's forgotten as their clothes fall off and their skin rubs like friction. Louis is still left in the dark about what they are and where they stand and how they feel, but as Harry sinks lower and lower down his body and his cock is being swallowed by Harry’s perfect fucking mouth, he can’t find it in himself to care too much.

It’s not until they’re both sated and Harry's wiping him down with a soft cloth that he bends over and he kisses Louis' hip and traces against the bones of his body that he says, "Yes."

And it doesn't take too long for Louis to understand, doesn't take long for Louis to pull Harry up and to press his lips against Harry's and to bite against his skip and lave over it with tongue and to whisper into Harry's body, into every crevice of his skin and every pore of his bone, "I love you too."


End file.
